They all got out of the car. Lacey walked slowly toward the crumpled section of guardrail, her eyes scanning the road surface and the surrounding area.
"There was definitely another car behind me," she said suddenly, her voice carrying absolute certainty. "I can remember it now, clearer than yesterday."
Holt moved closer. "What do you remember?"
Lacey pointed to the curve ahead. "I had already slowed down for this turn. My water bottle spilled when I hit that small pothole over there." She gestured to a minor depression in the asphalt. "When I reached to grab the bottle, I heard an engine roar behind me, like someone had suddenly accelerated."
"Was that the first or second time you were bumped?" June asked.
"The first time I was bumped, it wasn't hard enough to send me off the road,” Lacey said, her brow furrowing as she remembered. “In fact, I think it happened around the same time I hit that pothole.” Her eyes lifted to where the scene had happened. “I remember that I got the truck straightened out, and then I heard the engine rev loudly. You know, like when someone has put their food down to get their car to accelerate up a hill or go faster.” While Lacey's voice remained steady, Holt could see the tension in her shoulders. "That's when the secondimpact came. It was much harder than the first one, and that's what sent me through the guardrail."
Holt felt something cold settle in his chest. "You're certain the engine sound came from behind you?"
"Absolutely. And now that I think of it, it was definitely the sound of someone flooring the accelerator. I actually thought I might have done it by accident when I’d moved to grab the water bottle.”
June and Holt exchanged a look over Lacey's head. This eliminated any remaining possibility that the accident had been caused by distracted driving or mechanical failure. Someone had deliberately targeted Lacey, and they had made two separate attempts to force her off the road.
"Lacey," Holt said gently, "did you see anything in your mirrors? Any detail about the other vehicle?"
She shook her head. "It happened too fast, and I was focused on trying to control my truck and wasn’t looking in my mirrors as my car spun and then rolled down the embankment."
They stood in silence for a moment, looking at the crumpled guardrail and the skid marks that were still faintly visible on the asphalt. Holt found himself studying the sight lines and approach angles, trying to reconstruct how someone could have positioned themselves to make two separate ramming attacks. He tried to reason that maybe someone was as distracted as Lacey and didn’t realize what they had done. Holt knew how stupid that sounded, but it was possible the first bump was an accident. The driver panicked, thinking they’d hit someone, and then tried to accelerate away, hitting Lacey’s truck again. It could be possible. Or an impatient driver who wanted her out oftheir way. There was that as a possibility, too. Road rage caused people to do stupid things. Until he knew for definite, Holt couldn’t think that Lacey was being targeted. He didn’t want to cause her, or the town, any alarm if it got out.
"Are you ready to continue to the Henderson farm?" Holt asked.
“I’m ready,” June said, and he could see the concern mixed with anger at what happened to her friend flash in June’s eyes. But she turned and gave Lacey a warm smile. “Are you still okay to go on?”
His heart squeezed as he watched her loyalty and compassion for her friend. Such a contrast to Lillian, who never gave two hoots about anyone but herself. Holt gave himself a mental shake and a talking-to about comparing his first ex-wife to his second ex-wife and about what his life might have been like if he hadn’t put his career before his and June’s marriage.
Lacey nodded. "Yes. I’m fine.” She returned June’s smile. “Actually, talking through what happened makes me feel better, not worse. And I’m still very concerned about the creatures of that forest fire, so I’m also ready to go to the Hendersons’ farm." Her eyes met Holt’s. “Thank you for stopping here.”
“Of course,” Holt said. “This helps me with the investigation as well.”
Lacey’s brow drew tighter together. “Why are you investigating my accident and not Tom or Rad?”
“Holt and I offered to help with speaking to you as they are busy gathering more evidence and trying to find witnesses in order to narrow down suspects,” June was quick to answer.
She saved Holt from fumbling his way through some half-truth. While he was good at half answers with strangers, Holt didn’t like doing it to his friends and family.
They got back in the car and continued toward the Henderson farm. Holt's mind was working through the implications of what Lacey had just told them. The missing evidence, the deliberately destroyed car, and now confirmation that the attack on Lacey could have been someone targeting her.
The question that burned in Holt's mind was whether this had been intentional, and Lacey's testimony was pointing the investigation in that direction. Was Victoria the one to have hit Lacey? If she wasn’t, then there were two mysteries to solve. Who was it that had run Lacey off the road, and why? The other one was: why would Victoria have Clive lie about wrecking his car and then pay to have it crushed as a priority? What was Victoria hiding, and if she didn’t hit Lacey, what or who did she hit that she needed to cover up?
As for Lacey’s accident, Holt knew if she had been targeted, they were dealing with someone who was willing to commit attempted murder for whatever grudge or gripe they may have with Lacey or Lucy, for that matter. As June had pointed out earlier, someone could have easily mistaken Lacey for Lucy. Holt knew from his years in the FBI that doctors got targeted all the time and were blamed for tragedies. He took a soft breath so as not to alert the two women in the car to his worries that if this was a targeted hit, Lacey or Lucy were still in danger. And with evidence going missing from the lockup… It meant that whoever did this had access to the police department, and if they had that much access, they could get in anywhere, unnoticed.
As the Henderson farm came into view ahead of them, Holt made a mental note to be much more careful about who theyshared information with. If evidence could disappear from a locked police station, then nowhere was truly safe.
5
LACEY
The burned section of the Withlacoochee State Forest looked like a graveyard of trees.
Lacey stood at the edge where private property gave way to federal land, her phone in her good hand as she dictated notes about the extensive damage. The fire had burned hot and fast through this area, leaving behind a landscape of blackened stumps and ash-covered ground that would take years to recover.
"Approximately fifteen acres of longleaf pine habitat affected," she said into her phone's recording app, stepping carefully over a fallen branch. "Canopy damage varies from light scorching to complete destruction. Ground cover vegetation mostly burned away."
She moved deeper into the burned area, her dislocated shoulder throbbing with each careful step. The pain medication had worn off hours ago, but Lacey refused to let that stop her from doing her job. There were animals in this forest that might need help, and she was the only one qualified to assess their situation.
